Bulletin!
This just in. The Commission of Healthy Eating, as founded by Raymond Burr, has determined that the best course for a healthy body is to douse everything, and we mean EVERYTHING you eat, in vinegar as well as carbonated water. Plain tea is allowed as a substitute for the water. This will ensure the best quality body that you can attain! After all, Lord Byron did it!
Special news update!
Forget that vinegar crap! Our prized inventor Sylvester Graham has issued a suggestion (and we make ALL suggestions social law!) to eat lots of whole grains and raw foods based on vegetables. Plus, the guy is hawking his own crackers, so buy buy buy!
This just in! Drop everything, including your drawers!
Forget Graham, he ended up being a total crackpot as well as a major cracker! Horace Fletcher, whoever he is, maybe he was on Hollywood Squares once, wants us to Fletcherize. No, it doesn't involve puking, but rather chewing your food to that consistency, roughly 32 times per bite. And, to save money, eat only when hungry! You may be so tired of chewing that you'll drop eating entirely, saving you LOTS of money.
Holy Ford Pinto! It's Calories!
Have you ever heard of Lulu Hunt Peters? Neither have we! Yet, she has a revolutionary idea. What makes it revolutionary? It made us walk around the office building several times trying to figure out why we keep falling for this crap! Anyway, Ms Peters has invented calories, an imaginary set of numbers calculated by rolling 10 dice and counting the total, and attributed to random foods. For example, an Oreo could be 1 calorie, and a carrot stick could be 47 calories! Always remember, the less calories you eat, the more healthy you will be. Because we believe every screwball that comes up with a health idea as we can't think for ourselves. Who wants to? Thinkers aren't cool.
Extraordinary news!
Some jerk at a cigarette company makes the really cool suggestion for ladies to reach for a cigarette instead of sweets! Awesome sauce, we love lung cancer as an alternative to love handles, groovy!
A Must-See! Stay Tuned!
Forget the cancer sticks, ladies, that was a pretty stupid idea that we recommended simply because money corrupts us. This new idea is so cool that you'll feel and look great almost instantly. Don't eat a meal, DRINK a meal! Yes sir (or ma'am), thanks to a guy named Dr. Stoll, who knows everything because he's a DOCTOR,you can now have your fruits, veggies, and proteins pulverized together into one disgusting-looking beverage. Who cares what it looks like, right? Just get yourself a blender and liquefy away. Be like the rest of the sheep and be happy!
Disregard previous bulletin!
Eat grapefruit or grapefruit juice with every meal to burn that ugly uncool fat! It's the Hollywood thing, and we know our Hollywood heroes are the best ever! We'd even go to hotel rooms to be with them with no question! Oh some geek is trying to get us to eat cabbage soup, but we all know cabbage makes us fart and that's not the American way! Go Hollywood!
Emergency Alert!
Our President has just had a heart attack! Upon quick research consisting of asking his wife for 5 minutes, we have discovered that he was eating a LOT of saturated fats!That HAS to be the cause right? Of course it is, we believe anything! So, eat margarine instead. Granted that margarine is next to plastic molecule-wise, but at least it's not evil saturated natural foods! Save yourselves, eat the plastic on your bread and potatoes!
Now hear this! Diet soda!
You have no idea of exciting this is! I almost tossed my salad just upon the first words! There is now something called diet soda! No more unnecessary sugar to get my carbonation intake, now I can have something with a sugar substitute that may or may not deter my health. I can drink loads of this stuff and not gain any weight whatsoever! Hand me that 6-pack of Tab, I'm a-binging!
Dang, another cool fad? We're in!
We just met with some barfly named "Dr" Atkins. He has some really neato idea that you can take in a LOT of protein and fats and eat less carbs. My friend Bryan and his fiancee Vickie are doing this diet before their wedding, I bet they'll look great!
Detox? Delightful!
Holy mother of Adam West! We can have a lot of liquefied fruits and veggies. Why, you say! After all this came up before, but now they say we can DETOX our bodies with this torture, so let's do it! They say our bodies can detox themselves, but they're not COOL like us! And we all want to be cool and healthy and popular, right?
This crap just in, no more eggs!
Throw away those eggs! They have FAT in them! We HATE FAT!!! Fat is a communist! Fat is the devil! Fat is Jeff Probst! Fat is- oh yeah, sorry, EGGS HAVE FAT! Get egg substitute instead, it contains more crap than actual eggs, but that's ok because the substitute has little to no fat, and if it has a little, just do 4000 squats to burn the gram off!
Alert alert! Gerber is our savior!
Finally we have it, the ultimate healthy diet! Eat baby food, 14 jars of it, each day along with maybe an adult dinner. This is the best! People at the store keep asking how old my child is, but I just say I am eating better than them because I am cool and popular! Granted the mushiness can be unpleasant, but I just know this will work for me...I know it...I think...hmm...
Free yourselves folks, free yourselves.
Monday, February 25, 2019
Thursday, February 21, 2019
Tucker's Tale part 2: Halloween
When last we left Mr. Price, the poor bastard had been intellectually assaulted by the parents of little Fucker...er Tucker on Meet n Greet Day.
Since then, he has been challenged daily for pretty much anything that could be harmful physically, emotionally, or psychologically for Tucker by his parents...in other words, his daily existence.
Now we jump forward to Halloween. Mr. Price has almost been dreading this, for it is the first "holiday" of the school year. It is after school, the day before Nevada Day. Price has already made a reservation for a bar stool at a watering hole near his home. Just as he is gathering papers to take home and grade (perhaps burn), in comes Tucker's mom. Price has had many conversations with her, and has concluded that she is a perfect combination of snowflake, raisin, and a brick wall.
"Mr. Price!"
Shit. "Yes, ma'am. How nice to see you again this week."
"I was here yesterday, too."
I had almost blocked that out, thanks for the reminder! "Of course. What can I do for you?"
"Well, I have some concerns."
"Ma'am, I cannot do anything about the cafeteria menu. If it says broccoli, Tucker will just have to deal with it."
The mom laughs. "Oh dear no. We had a long conversation about that with Tucker. He understands."
"Oh, he knows it is broccoli and not wittle twees?"
"Dear no, he just understands that the world is not as smart as he is."
"Well he certainly is on another intellectual plane. Speaking of which, the kids took that test that you tried to get canceled. I applaud your effort, but the governor had the final say."
The face crinkles, then breaks into a fake smile. "Oh really? And how did Tucker do?"
Price consults a chart. "Well, when he wasn't reaching for his handkerchief and emptying his brain cells into it, he had trouble with letter sounds and number values. Needless to say, when it came to reading passages and math computation, he flat-lined."
"What do you mean needless to say?"
"What I mean is that despite your husband's claim that Tucker will rise to the top and race to the 3rd grade by March, Tucker is operating at below a first grade level, and since he is in the 2nd grade, saying we have concerns is the century's understatement."
Tucker's mom sits down. "Mr. Price, I understand your concerns, but we have ours as well."
You should be concerned about when to start building the basement to stick that kid in when he flunks out. "Of course."
The gentle fake smile returns. "I have concerns about this Nevada Day. What is it?"
"Oh, instead of Columbus Day, we celebrate the day Nevada attained statehood."
"Hmm, I am not sure I agree with the idea."
"There's been about 8 weeks since Labor Day, so the kids, and teachers, need a little break, don't you think?"
She shakes her head. "Mr. Price, how will we ever get Tucker to grade level if these frivolous vacations keep coming up?"
"No idea. You have me there. Did you talk to the governor?"
"He won't return our calls anymore."
"Small wonder. Next concern."
A look of deep angst on a raisin. "Mr. Price, you sound as though you do not like our meetings."
"Ma'am, I do like meeting with parents to discuss academic concerns and how we can work together on the school AND home fronts. However, we talk and talk and never get anywhere because you do not want to get to the academics. You want to discuss ways to avoid helping Tucker at the very core of school."
"MR PRICE! I do NOT want to avoid ANYTHING!"
"You want to avoid any testing. Believe it or not, you actually won the battle in not getting him tested for special ed against our best advice. You are against weekly reading and math assessments. You are against grades in general. You are against the idea of competition. And now you are against a holiday that the kids and teachers look forward to."
Tucker's mom looks shocked and appalled, but then a surprising smile comes across her face. "Mr. Price, do you like being a teacher?"
"Of course." Before you raised my alcohol tolerance, that is.
"It seems that you might be happier in another profession, seeing that you cannot meet Tucker's needs."
Ooh, I can almost see what's coming. "Why, whatever do you mean?"
Tucker's mom looks at the closed door. "You really shouldn't close the door during a conference."
"You closed it when you entered."
"You can't prove that. Imagine what the administration would think if I accused you of...harassment?"
Price smiles back. "I think they'd find that quite unbelievable, ma'am." Many of them having met you, they'd find it an ice pond in hell of a chance.
"All I have to do is accuse."
"And all I have to do is play the tape of us talking today."
The smile gone once again. "You're...taping this?"
"Well, not TAPING per se, I'm not that ancient, but recording. In fact, since September I have been recording every single conference between you and me."
"W-w-w-w-why?"
"Insurance and transparency. Our talks are documented and I think that anyone will find that I have tried to cooperate with you on every issue. Now, can we get back to the topic of Tucker?"
Mr. Price has never seen anyone look so defeated, so he smiles and offers, "I know you want the best for him. We can't control the holidays, so let's focus on what we can change."
She looks doubtful, but shrugs and smiles. "All right, let's discuss Halloween."
"Excellent."
"What?"
"An excellent topic, I mean. Will Tucker dress up?"
"Oh dear YES!"
That's a fucking switch! "Oh good. What will he be?"
"Why himself, of course! He needs not disguise himself, he is so wonderful as he is."
Knew that was too good to be true. "Of course he is."
"Will there be a party?"
"We like to call them celebrations, but yes. Just in the afternoon. We'll watch something fun and educational while the kids eat from fruit and vegetable trays. I don't need diabetic comas, so no sweets."
Tucker's mom cracks a true smile. A friendly smile. Price is frightened. "Mr. Price, that is so wonderful!"
Price feels a small chill coming from below. Hell HAS frozen over! "Wow, I am glad we finally agree on something."
"Oh YES! OK, one last question and I will let you go."
The chill is full blown and Price feels the need for thick boots. "Go ahead."
"How can we help Tucker at home?"
To be continued...
Since then, he has been challenged daily for pretty much anything that could be harmful physically, emotionally, or psychologically for Tucker by his parents...in other words, his daily existence.
Now we jump forward to Halloween. Mr. Price has almost been dreading this, for it is the first "holiday" of the school year. It is after school, the day before Nevada Day. Price has already made a reservation for a bar stool at a watering hole near his home. Just as he is gathering papers to take home and grade (perhaps burn), in comes Tucker's mom. Price has had many conversations with her, and has concluded that she is a perfect combination of snowflake, raisin, and a brick wall.
"Mr. Price!"
Shit. "Yes, ma'am. How nice to see you again this week."
"I was here yesterday, too."
I had almost blocked that out, thanks for the reminder! "Of course. What can I do for you?"
"Well, I have some concerns."
"Ma'am, I cannot do anything about the cafeteria menu. If it says broccoli, Tucker will just have to deal with it."
The mom laughs. "Oh dear no. We had a long conversation about that with Tucker. He understands."
"Oh, he knows it is broccoli and not wittle twees?"
"Dear no, he just understands that the world is not as smart as he is."
"Well he certainly is on another intellectual plane. Speaking of which, the kids took that test that you tried to get canceled. I applaud your effort, but the governor had the final say."
The face crinkles, then breaks into a fake smile. "Oh really? And how did Tucker do?"
Price consults a chart. "Well, when he wasn't reaching for his handkerchief and emptying his brain cells into it, he had trouble with letter sounds and number values. Needless to say, when it came to reading passages and math computation, he flat-lined."
"What do you mean needless to say?"
"What I mean is that despite your husband's claim that Tucker will rise to the top and race to the 3rd grade by March, Tucker is operating at below a first grade level, and since he is in the 2nd grade, saying we have concerns is the century's understatement."
Tucker's mom sits down. "Mr. Price, I understand your concerns, but we have ours as well."
You should be concerned about when to start building the basement to stick that kid in when he flunks out. "Of course."
The gentle fake smile returns. "I have concerns about this Nevada Day. What is it?"
"Oh, instead of Columbus Day, we celebrate the day Nevada attained statehood."
"Hmm, I am not sure I agree with the idea."
"There's been about 8 weeks since Labor Day, so the kids, and teachers, need a little break, don't you think?"
She shakes her head. "Mr. Price, how will we ever get Tucker to grade level if these frivolous vacations keep coming up?"
"No idea. You have me there. Did you talk to the governor?"
"He won't return our calls anymore."
"Small wonder. Next concern."
A look of deep angst on a raisin. "Mr. Price, you sound as though you do not like our meetings."
"Ma'am, I do like meeting with parents to discuss academic concerns and how we can work together on the school AND home fronts. However, we talk and talk and never get anywhere because you do not want to get to the academics. You want to discuss ways to avoid helping Tucker at the very core of school."
"MR PRICE! I do NOT want to avoid ANYTHING!"
"You want to avoid any testing. Believe it or not, you actually won the battle in not getting him tested for special ed against our best advice. You are against weekly reading and math assessments. You are against grades in general. You are against the idea of competition. And now you are against a holiday that the kids and teachers look forward to."
Tucker's mom looks shocked and appalled, but then a surprising smile comes across her face. "Mr. Price, do you like being a teacher?"
"Of course." Before you raised my alcohol tolerance, that is.
"It seems that you might be happier in another profession, seeing that you cannot meet Tucker's needs."
Ooh, I can almost see what's coming. "Why, whatever do you mean?"
Tucker's mom looks at the closed door. "You really shouldn't close the door during a conference."
"You closed it when you entered."
"You can't prove that. Imagine what the administration would think if I accused you of...harassment?"
Price smiles back. "I think they'd find that quite unbelievable, ma'am." Many of them having met you, they'd find it an ice pond in hell of a chance.
"All I have to do is accuse."
"And all I have to do is play the tape of us talking today."
The smile gone once again. "You're...taping this?"
"Well, not TAPING per se, I'm not that ancient, but recording. In fact, since September I have been recording every single conference between you and me."
"W-w-w-w-why?"
"Insurance and transparency. Our talks are documented and I think that anyone will find that I have tried to cooperate with you on every issue. Now, can we get back to the topic of Tucker?"
Mr. Price has never seen anyone look so defeated, so he smiles and offers, "I know you want the best for him. We can't control the holidays, so let's focus on what we can change."
She looks doubtful, but shrugs and smiles. "All right, let's discuss Halloween."
"Excellent."
"What?"
"An excellent topic, I mean. Will Tucker dress up?"
"Oh dear YES!"
That's a fucking switch! "Oh good. What will he be?"
"Why himself, of course! He needs not disguise himself, he is so wonderful as he is."
Knew that was too good to be true. "Of course he is."
"Will there be a party?"
"We like to call them celebrations, but yes. Just in the afternoon. We'll watch something fun and educational while the kids eat from fruit and vegetable trays. I don't need diabetic comas, so no sweets."
Tucker's mom cracks a true smile. A friendly smile. Price is frightened. "Mr. Price, that is so wonderful!"
Price feels a small chill coming from below. Hell HAS frozen over! "Wow, I am glad we finally agree on something."
"Oh YES! OK, one last question and I will let you go."
The chill is full blown and Price feels the need for thick boots. "Go ahead."
"How can we help Tucker at home?"
To be continued...
Sunday, February 10, 2019
Tucker's Tale, part 1: Meet n Greet
Once upon a time, there was a teacher named Mr. Price. He was in the public school system for almost 40 years and had seen it all. He was educated and trained by east coast philosophies, namely, "snowflakes melt soon after contact" in combined modern form.
In his early years, the system was working well. He taught a general curriculum with little or no parental interference, the principal stayed in her office smoking and drinking, the school lunch was pretty edible, and the teacher lounge was a refuge for a little while each day during lunch or specials (art, music, gym).. Recess was a nice way to get outside for a bit. The movie projector or film strip projector or even the wheeled-in TV for a special viewing was a treat for Price as well as the kids. This went well into the 1980s and made the low pay almost ignorable.
Then in 2008 it was "meet n greet" time in late August. This was when roughly half the class showed up with their parents to give a false sense of security and wonderfulness that the coming year was about to bring. It was also a day when parents brought the necessary Kleenex to get the year off right.
In came a little redheaded boy with about 2 tons of snot running out of his nose, holding a plush purple elephant. He was followed by 2 of the most smiling parents one could ever imagine. As they entered, the parents began writing things down. Mr. Price was in the middle of talking with another parent over the math curriculum for 2nd grade and didn't notice the new trio at first.
Suddenly the dad stepped in the middle of the two and stuck out his hand. "Hi! I'm Tucker's dad!"
Price shook it, noticing the similarity of the hand to a trout he'd once caught. "Hi. Who's Tucker?"
"My son!"
"He's not on my roster."
"He was just registered this morning. We're from Healdsburg, California."
Price looked around Tucker's dad at the spurned parent to whom he had been speaking. "I look forward to seeing Nancy on Monday."
Nancy's mom smiled and nodded, turned, jiggled her ass a bit as (assumed) insurance for her daughter's grades, then left the classroom.
Price made a mental note to have regular conferences with her, then turned back to Tucker's fish, er father. "Healdsburg. Where is that?"
"North of San Francisco."
Price nodded, maintaining his prided ignorance of anything California related. So tell me about fucker."So tell me about Tucker."
Tucker's dad gushed. "Oh, he is such a wonderful child! You two will hit it off right away, I can just tell."
Price glanced at Tucker, whose snot had accumulated a pile at the listening center. Price smiled inwardly, grateful that his childhood days swimming in the sewage-tempered Schuylkill River made him immune against pretty much everything. "Can he read?"
"Oh, yes, he has almost mastered One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish!"
"Almost mastered...lovely. How about his math?"
"Well...he still struggles with anything above 20, but he can do 3+4 in about 8 seconds now."
Price coughed a hidden "ah shit" then smiled as gently as possible. "And they let him out of first grade just like that?"
The dad nodded a knowing nod. "I know, a lot of teachers think that is low, even his teacher wanted to put him back in Kindergarten for two years. Well, we fought them tooth and nail because we just know that he will thrive this year and make you want to send him to third before March," he added with a nervous giggle.
"Fought tooth and nail?"
"Oh yes, the administration along with the superintendent and the school board fought us hard. But, once we said we were moving east, all the resistance ended and they gave us their blessing."
At that point, Tucker's mom walked over to them. Price gave her a once-over with his eyes, and Nancy's mom definitely won out. "Mr. Price, I have just a few questions for you."
"Shoot."
She made a strange crinkled face. "Ugh, please don't say that word. It makes Tucker upset."
"Why?"
"There are no guns in our house, on our TV, or in any of our books."
"Rriigghht. Ask away."
The crinkle smoothed out quickly. "First, how do you celebrate achievement?"
"Well, we have a bulletin board that measures sight word progress, as well as math fact knowledge."
"Hmm." The crinkle returned. "That almost seems like promoting competition."
Yeah, seeing that half of the class is further than you might make you work your ass off more! "That's one opinion. Our admin supports it and most of the other teachers use it as well."
"Well, wouldn't it be better to make them all feel like winners? It supports self-esteem."
"Kind of like a no-score tee ball game, right?"
The crinkle erased again. "Exactly! It makes all of the kids happy."
"Once again, that's one take."
Tucker's mom was realizing she was not winning this one, at least not yet. "Fine. Also, I know it sounds strange, but..." She glanced at Tucker, wiping his nose on the math bulletin board. "I wonder if you could promise to not say," She paused then whispered "broccoli".
Californians! "If you give me a good reason."
"Well, when he was 3, we had that at dinner and he called them 'wittle twees'."
"Little trees. Yeah, ok, cute at 3 years old."
The crinkles not only returned but multiplied. "Herb, help me here!"
The newly named Herb placed an 'I got this, honey' hand on his wife's flat chest. "No, Mr. Price, she means wittle twees. It was just so cute and we didn't want to confuse him as he got older. You do understand, right?"
"To be honest, no. But I don't have to. If the b word accidentally slips out during a discussion of growing vegetables, it slips out. The lunch room serves it fairly regularly and the menu does NOT say 'wittle twees'."
The mom retained her crinkles. "I will have a talk with the lunch lady about this. I am sure she will understand."
In a pig's ass. "Maybe. Now, before you go, did you happen to bring any tissues? We like to keep a good supply for the cold months as well as allergies."
Dad replied, "No. Tissues promote waste. He uses a handkerchief at all times."
"Huh. Does he have one now?"
"Oh no, he forgot his when we left. He'll have it on Monday."
Before then I will have spent all fucking weekend Clorox-wiped everything he got near. "Fine. Just by curiosity does he use toilet paper?"
"Yes, why?"
"Just taking a survey. Well, if that's all, I have a doctor's appointment in 25 minutes."
Mom looked at her Apple Watch. "But Meet and Greet is supposed to go until 3. It's only 11:00."
Shit, I tried. "Oh, I got my times mixed up. Anything else?"
"Yes. I see that you have your desks set up in rows and columns."
Good eyesight. "And?"
"Well, wouldn't partnerships or cooperative groups be a better way to start?"
"Oh. I form those later when I have a good sense of the class personalities and academic levels."
Mom kept the attempted icy stare with fixed smile on him. "How much later?"
"A week, maybe 2 or 3."
Mom's face now resembled an old California raisin ad from the 80s. "But that will hurt Tucker so badly."
"Not at all. Wait until he gets to know me."
Mom tried to look haughty while Dad kept a frightened silence. "We will see, Mr. Price. We will see if you are blessed with him long enough. Goodbye."
In his early years, the system was working well. He taught a general curriculum with little or no parental interference, the principal stayed in her office smoking and drinking, the school lunch was pretty edible, and the teacher lounge was a refuge for a little while each day during lunch or specials (art, music, gym).. Recess was a nice way to get outside for a bit. The movie projector or film strip projector or even the wheeled-in TV for a special viewing was a treat for Price as well as the kids. This went well into the 1980s and made the low pay almost ignorable.
Then in 2008 it was "meet n greet" time in late August. This was when roughly half the class showed up with their parents to give a false sense of security and wonderfulness that the coming year was about to bring. It was also a day when parents brought the necessary Kleenex to get the year off right.
In came a little redheaded boy with about 2 tons of snot running out of his nose, holding a plush purple elephant. He was followed by 2 of the most smiling parents one could ever imagine. As they entered, the parents began writing things down. Mr. Price was in the middle of talking with another parent over the math curriculum for 2nd grade and didn't notice the new trio at first.
Suddenly the dad stepped in the middle of the two and stuck out his hand. "Hi! I'm Tucker's dad!"
Price shook it, noticing the similarity of the hand to a trout he'd once caught. "Hi. Who's Tucker?"
"My son!"
"He's not on my roster."
"He was just registered this morning. We're from Healdsburg, California."
Price looked around Tucker's dad at the spurned parent to whom he had been speaking. "I look forward to seeing Nancy on Monday."
Nancy's mom smiled and nodded, turned, jiggled her ass a bit as (assumed) insurance for her daughter's grades, then left the classroom.
Price made a mental note to have regular conferences with her, then turned back to Tucker's fish, er father. "Healdsburg. Where is that?"
"North of San Francisco."
Price nodded, maintaining his prided ignorance of anything California related. So tell me about fucker."So tell me about Tucker."
Tucker's dad gushed. "Oh, he is such a wonderful child! You two will hit it off right away, I can just tell."
Price glanced at Tucker, whose snot had accumulated a pile at the listening center. Price smiled inwardly, grateful that his childhood days swimming in the sewage-tempered Schuylkill River made him immune against pretty much everything. "Can he read?"
"Oh, yes, he has almost mastered One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish!"
"Almost mastered...lovely. How about his math?"
"Well...he still struggles with anything above 20, but he can do 3+4 in about 8 seconds now."
Price coughed a hidden "ah shit" then smiled as gently as possible. "And they let him out of first grade just like that?"
The dad nodded a knowing nod. "I know, a lot of teachers think that is low, even his teacher wanted to put him back in Kindergarten for two years. Well, we fought them tooth and nail because we just know that he will thrive this year and make you want to send him to third before March," he added with a nervous giggle.
"Fought tooth and nail?"
"Oh yes, the administration along with the superintendent and the school board fought us hard. But, once we said we were moving east, all the resistance ended and they gave us their blessing."
At that point, Tucker's mom walked over to them. Price gave her a once-over with his eyes, and Nancy's mom definitely won out. "Mr. Price, I have just a few questions for you."
"Shoot."
She made a strange crinkled face. "Ugh, please don't say that word. It makes Tucker upset."
"Why?"
"There are no guns in our house, on our TV, or in any of our books."
"Rriigghht. Ask away."
The crinkle smoothed out quickly. "First, how do you celebrate achievement?"
"Well, we have a bulletin board that measures sight word progress, as well as math fact knowledge."
"Hmm." The crinkle returned. "That almost seems like promoting competition."
Yeah, seeing that half of the class is further than you might make you work your ass off more! "That's one opinion. Our admin supports it and most of the other teachers use it as well."
"Well, wouldn't it be better to make them all feel like winners? It supports self-esteem."
"Kind of like a no-score tee ball game, right?"
The crinkle erased again. "Exactly! It makes all of the kids happy."
"Once again, that's one take."
Tucker's mom was realizing she was not winning this one, at least not yet. "Fine. Also, I know it sounds strange, but..." She glanced at Tucker, wiping his nose on the math bulletin board. "I wonder if you could promise to not say," She paused then whispered "broccoli".
Californians! "If you give me a good reason."
"Well, when he was 3, we had that at dinner and he called them 'wittle twees'."
"Little trees. Yeah, ok, cute at 3 years old."
The crinkles not only returned but multiplied. "Herb, help me here!"
The newly named Herb placed an 'I got this, honey' hand on his wife's flat chest. "No, Mr. Price, she means wittle twees. It was just so cute and we didn't want to confuse him as he got older. You do understand, right?"
"To be honest, no. But I don't have to. If the b word accidentally slips out during a discussion of growing vegetables, it slips out. The lunch room serves it fairly regularly and the menu does NOT say 'wittle twees'."
The mom retained her crinkles. "I will have a talk with the lunch lady about this. I am sure she will understand."
In a pig's ass. "Maybe. Now, before you go, did you happen to bring any tissues? We like to keep a good supply for the cold months as well as allergies."
Dad replied, "No. Tissues promote waste. He uses a handkerchief at all times."
"Huh. Does he have one now?"
"Oh no, he forgot his when we left. He'll have it on Monday."
Before then I will have spent all fucking weekend Clorox-wiped everything he got near. "Fine. Just by curiosity does he use toilet paper?"
"Yes, why?"
"Just taking a survey. Well, if that's all, I have a doctor's appointment in 25 minutes."
Mom looked at her Apple Watch. "But Meet and Greet is supposed to go until 3. It's only 11:00."
Shit, I tried. "Oh, I got my times mixed up. Anything else?"
"Yes. I see that you have your desks set up in rows and columns."
Good eyesight. "And?"
"Well, wouldn't partnerships or cooperative groups be a better way to start?"
"Oh. I form those later when I have a good sense of the class personalities and academic levels."
Mom kept the attempted icy stare with fixed smile on him. "How much later?"
"A week, maybe 2 or 3."
Mom's face now resembled an old California raisin ad from the 80s. "But that will hurt Tucker so badly."
"Not at all. Wait until he gets to know me."
Mom tried to look haughty while Dad kept a frightened silence. "We will see, Mr. Price. We will see if you are blessed with him long enough. Goodbye."
Thursday, January 31, 2019
You Only Live Twice
Let's see...Dr Delighted is on the lam, it's the end of January, it must be time for the type of post that people roll their eyelashes about. Yep, it is BOOK REVIEW TIME!
I have read most of the original James Bond novels, except the ones that put me to sleep (Moonraker and Thunderball being the 2). For those who think that the books are as packed with action as the films, well, you're a dipshit! The books are fairly dry at times. Ian Fleming could be quite verbose in his descriptive paragraphs.
The books, in order, are as follows: Casino Royale, Live and Let Die, Moonraker (yawn), Diamonds Are Forever, From Russia With Love, Doctor No, Goldfinger, For Your Eyes Only (a short story collection), Thunderball (yawn), The Spy Who Loved Me (a Bond story written from a female's point of view), On Her Majesty's Secret Service, You Only Live Twice, and The Man With The Golden Gun (only the first draft was done before Fleming's death in 1964).
Today's selection is one of my personal favorites, You Only Live Twice. Published in 1964, it is known as the last part of the "Blofeld Trilogy". Ernst Stavro Blofeld is James Bond's nemesis in the later novels, and is the head of SPECTRE (Special Executive for Counterintelligence, Terrorism, Revenge, and Extortion).
In the beginning of the novel, James Bond is at the end of his rope, and almost the end of his days as a British agent. He heavily drinking and is still grieving over the death of his wife Tracy at Blofeld's hand at the end of On Her Majesty's Secret Service, and his screwing up even the easiest of assignments. His boss M wants to fire him, but the Service shrink convinces him to give Bond one more chance with a mission so seemingly impossible that it will bring Bond out of the dumps.
With that, Bond is transferred to the diplomatic section with a new number (7777) and assigned the task of traveling to Japan to convince the head of secret service Tiger Tanaka to let the British secret service borrow "Magic 44", a recorder of radio transmissions from the then-Soviet Union. When Bond's offers of trade fall short (the Japanese already has what he offers), Bond offers any personal service he may render.
This perks up Tanaka's attention, and he takes Bond up on his offer with a mission of murder. He tells Bond a tale regarding Japan's high rate of suicide,a practice to regain family honor. Before Bond's arrival, a foreigner under the name of Dr. Shatterhand had arrived in Japan and took up residence on the island of Kyushu at a rebuilt ancient castle. Dr Shatterhand has constructed a "garden of death", which is drawing in more Japanese citizens to commit suicide, which is somehow a political embarrassment.
To infiltrate Shatterhand's castle, Bond must become Japanese in every way possible, though he is tall for a Japanese. Along the way, the reader learns a bit about Japanese culture, particularly the low social standing of women. On the way to Kyushu, Bond and Tanaka are tailed. Upon the tail's apprehension, photos are obtained of Shatterhand and his wife. When Bond sees these, he realizes that Shatterhand and his wife are Ernst Stavro Blofeld and his ugly wife Irma Bunt.
Now Bond is on a mission of revenge. He poses as a Japanese coal miner and takes a Japanese wife Kissy Suzuki to retain his cover. Later, while infiltrating the castle, he apprehended and Irma Bunt sees through his dyed skin.
He narrowly escapes a murder attempt and has a quite interesting dialogue with Blofeld, the latter of whom explains all of his former crimes as acts of ironic humanity. Blofeld tires of what he sees as a feeble mind in Bond, and engages his adversary in a duel of sword vs wooden staff. Blofeld is quite expert at the sword, but Bond's revenge will is stronger and he strangles Blofeld to death with all the murderous rage in the world. Bond then blows up the castle and, while escaping, suffers a head injury and gets amnesia.
Kissy tries to use this situation to keep Bond to himself. They sleep together and she gets pregnant, but Bond keeps dreaming of Russia and travels there to find out who he is, while the British community believes their prized agent dead.
This is a great read, and the occasional travelogue paragraphs regarding Japan do not interfere much. Tiger Tanaka is an engaging roguish character. To me, though, the star is Blofeld, who has self-admittedly grown mad with power over the years. He is certainly the most enduring of Bond's foes.
Which brings me to the 1967 film version. It was an entirely new story with little of the novel used except for characters. Roald Dahl himself wrote the script. Blofeld had been in previous films, but never seen except for a hand petting a white Persian cat. This was the first film where he was seen fully, portrayed by eternally creepy Donald Pleasance. In the film, SPECTRE is trying to start a war between the U.S. and the Soviet Union by capturing their spacecraft using a Jaws-like spacecraft of their own, making it seem like each other had done the deed. Bond, with Tiger's and Kissy's help, infiltrates SPECTRE's volcano base with ninjas and foils their plans. Blofeld escapes to fight another day in 2 more films (On Her Majesty's Secret Service, which closely follows the book for a change, and Diamonds Are Forever).
This is one of my favorites. It is cheesy at times and Sean Connery looks bored playing Bond, but hey, Connery reading a SHOPPING LIST is still Connery!
Overall, both stories are great, but the book version takes the top as it humanizes Bond on several levels. I recommend the books always as source material, but advise against using the movie as a reference too much.
I have read most of the original James Bond novels, except the ones that put me to sleep (Moonraker and Thunderball being the 2). For those who think that the books are as packed with action as the films, well, you're a dipshit! The books are fairly dry at times. Ian Fleming could be quite verbose in his descriptive paragraphs.
The books, in order, are as follows: Casino Royale, Live and Let Die, Moonraker (yawn), Diamonds Are Forever, From Russia With Love, Doctor No, Goldfinger, For Your Eyes Only (a short story collection), Thunderball (yawn), The Spy Who Loved Me (a Bond story written from a female's point of view), On Her Majesty's Secret Service, You Only Live Twice, and The Man With The Golden Gun (only the first draft was done before Fleming's death in 1964).
Today's selection is one of my personal favorites, You Only Live Twice. Published in 1964, it is known as the last part of the "Blofeld Trilogy". Ernst Stavro Blofeld is James Bond's nemesis in the later novels, and is the head of SPECTRE (Special Executive for Counterintelligence, Terrorism, Revenge, and Extortion).
In the beginning of the novel, James Bond is at the end of his rope, and almost the end of his days as a British agent. He heavily drinking and is still grieving over the death of his wife Tracy at Blofeld's hand at the end of On Her Majesty's Secret Service, and his screwing up even the easiest of assignments. His boss M wants to fire him, but the Service shrink convinces him to give Bond one more chance with a mission so seemingly impossible that it will bring Bond out of the dumps.
With that, Bond is transferred to the diplomatic section with a new number (7777) and assigned the task of traveling to Japan to convince the head of secret service Tiger Tanaka to let the British secret service borrow "Magic 44", a recorder of radio transmissions from the then-Soviet Union. When Bond's offers of trade fall short (the Japanese already has what he offers), Bond offers any personal service he may render.
This perks up Tanaka's attention, and he takes Bond up on his offer with a mission of murder. He tells Bond a tale regarding Japan's high rate of suicide,a practice to regain family honor. Before Bond's arrival, a foreigner under the name of Dr. Shatterhand had arrived in Japan and took up residence on the island of Kyushu at a rebuilt ancient castle. Dr Shatterhand has constructed a "garden of death", which is drawing in more Japanese citizens to commit suicide, which is somehow a political embarrassment.
To infiltrate Shatterhand's castle, Bond must become Japanese in every way possible, though he is tall for a Japanese. Along the way, the reader learns a bit about Japanese culture, particularly the low social standing of women. On the way to Kyushu, Bond and Tanaka are tailed. Upon the tail's apprehension, photos are obtained of Shatterhand and his wife. When Bond sees these, he realizes that Shatterhand and his wife are Ernst Stavro Blofeld and his ugly wife Irma Bunt.
Now Bond is on a mission of revenge. He poses as a Japanese coal miner and takes a Japanese wife Kissy Suzuki to retain his cover. Later, while infiltrating the castle, he apprehended and Irma Bunt sees through his dyed skin.
He narrowly escapes a murder attempt and has a quite interesting dialogue with Blofeld, the latter of whom explains all of his former crimes as acts of ironic humanity. Blofeld tires of what he sees as a feeble mind in Bond, and engages his adversary in a duel of sword vs wooden staff. Blofeld is quite expert at the sword, but Bond's revenge will is stronger and he strangles Blofeld to death with all the murderous rage in the world. Bond then blows up the castle and, while escaping, suffers a head injury and gets amnesia.
Kissy tries to use this situation to keep Bond to himself. They sleep together and she gets pregnant, but Bond keeps dreaming of Russia and travels there to find out who he is, while the British community believes their prized agent dead.
This is a great read, and the occasional travelogue paragraphs regarding Japan do not interfere much. Tiger Tanaka is an engaging roguish character. To me, though, the star is Blofeld, who has self-admittedly grown mad with power over the years. He is certainly the most enduring of Bond's foes.
Which brings me to the 1967 film version. It was an entirely new story with little of the novel used except for characters. Roald Dahl himself wrote the script. Blofeld had been in previous films, but never seen except for a hand petting a white Persian cat. This was the first film where he was seen fully, portrayed by eternally creepy Donald Pleasance. In the film, SPECTRE is trying to start a war between the U.S. and the Soviet Union by capturing their spacecraft using a Jaws-like spacecraft of their own, making it seem like each other had done the deed. Bond, with Tiger's and Kissy's help, infiltrates SPECTRE's volcano base with ninjas and foils their plans. Blofeld escapes to fight another day in 2 more films (On Her Majesty's Secret Service, which closely follows the book for a change, and Diamonds Are Forever).
This is one of my favorites. It is cheesy at times and Sean Connery looks bored playing Bond, but hey, Connery reading a SHOPPING LIST is still Connery!
Overall, both stories are great, but the book version takes the top as it humanizes Bond on several levels. I recommend the books always as source material, but advise against using the movie as a reference too much.
Monday, December 31, 2018
2018
2018
2018 has been WILD to say the least!
For the celebrity world, we lost a lot of people. Penny Marshall, Nancy Wilson (jazz, not rock), Sondra Locke, Bernardo Bertolucci, Roy Clark, Stan Lee, Burt Reynolds, Aretha Franklin, Charlotte Rae, Harry Anderson, R. Lee Ermey, Milos Forman, Steven Bochco, Stephen Hwking, David Ogden Stiers, Lewis Gilbert (directed Bond movies), Marty Allen, Vic Damone, John Mahoney, Olivia Cole, Peter Wyngarde, and Jerry Van Dyke.
The political world has become a very hot mess and our nation is quite divided. Donald Trump seems perfectly happy to say whatever he wants and piss anyone off as he pleases. The Democrats won some seats in the midterms, but time will tell what that will do for or to us come January. In the meantime, the world's view of us as a nation is tenuous at best, the worst it has been in a while. Whoever replaces Trump will have a lot of damage to fix.
On that note, I will say that social media has become more of a battlefield in terms of real and fake news, personal opinion, and tons of memes. One person reams Trump and others will defend the man, a person defends Trump and others will tar and feather him. As long as the battle stays in digital text and not on the streets with weapons, I think we are safe.
I find myself watching more old shows on disc and YouTube since the current slate of programs is absolute shit.
Terror. The terror is within our nation, not other countries. Every week it seems like some business, church, or individual is the target of a mad gunner. Talks of gun control pop up, but die down, though it gets longer when there is a school shooting. Quite frankly, nobody feels completely safe unless they are white, straight, and Christian. Even then, nobody is completely safe.
On the personal side, we had quite the year. The big thing was, we bought a house! After years of being slaves to landlords and property management companies, we decided to take a gamble and see if we qualified for any sort of mortgage assistance program for teachers. We actually qualified for one even bigger. We looked at homes 1 day in July and by week's end we'd made an offer. On Labor Day weekend, we moved in. It's been quite the roller-coaster ride since but I would not give this house up for anything!
On the job aspect, I moved back to 1st grade (teaching it, not being a student, I SAW that look!). Luckily I was able to stay in the portable, PLUS I was granted my request to do the morning announcements. It has been a great school year so far.
As for the school system itself, I see nothing positive in terms of real raises or relief as long as the current administration is in power. We have a new superintendent who's superintentions I am not clear on yet. The union fought a funding battle over the summer and won, but I haven't seen much in terms of change yet.
My family is my strength as always, plus a network of friends both in and out of school. My relationship with my in-laws is, as always, fluctuating. I like Vickie's brother. I try to get along with her mom, and I've given her a lot of slack since her longtime live-in whatever died in April. However, I have seen and heard things that make me concerned about Natalie. spending time with her in terms of safety and nutrition. I hope the next year proves to be better in that department.
Travel-wise, we took 2 road trips. 1 was to Phoenix to see my old high school buddy Tris and his family in June. At the end of June, we traveled by rental car to Bremerton to see my sister getting married for the second time. I am glad we took the trip, it gave us a chance to mend fences and start talking again. We didn't have the best of relationships, but we do have each other in times of crisis and happiness.
HAPPY 2019 EVERYONE!
Wednesday, December 26, 2018
Delighted Is Not The Word
("Riders on the Storm" playing)
Good...evening. Once again, your favorite radio shrink Dr. Delighted is on the air. I wish I felt more delighted, but I got a memo today from the boss. It says that as we are in the Christmas season, well, HOLIDAY season according to the memo, I need to devote one night to reading letters and honoring requests. Well, since I hit the Discount Liquor store on the way to work and stocked up, I figured tonight's the night!
So, let's dig into this unusually large shopping bag of letters. Damn, I thought it'd be a gallon Zip Lock at most! Quite frankly, I thought I had a small core audience of people who's radio tuners were stuck on AM. What will be will be, I suppose. Let's see, let's try this one that looks like a card.
"Dear Dokter Delitd,
I rely luv your sho. Can yu help me get my daddi bak? He bekam a girl last yer. Luv, Vanessa"
Vanessa, before I begin, I must note your interesting spelling and how I can read it so easily. I will assume you are in third grade or below, so the good doctor and his friend Dr. Bacardi will take it easy on you.Your daddy decided to become a woman, and that tells of a lot of problems that made him want to do that. I can't change him back, but I can help you. The new woman at home is still your daddy at heart, so love him, er her. And believe it or not, Vanessa, being a guy in this hostile world is tough unless you're rich. Maybe being a woman and having that kind of support is what he needed. Merry Christmas to you, Vanessa, and look out for a gift card for you in your mailbox soon.
Whew, these kids have it tough, don't they? Endless electronics, conveniences, and so on, yet their parents can't quite get a grip on being a parent. Poor Vanessa and kids like her have to grow up too damn fast to deal with these life changes. Time for a whiskey sour and we'll be right back.
(plays "Chipmunks Roasting on an Open Fire" by Bob Rivers)
Aaaand, that last tune was requested by someone. Who, I don't know, but it was a request and dammit I honored it! All right, let's see. It's either 10pm or Mickey's gone disco! Time for another letter...oooh, this one looks big and tasty! Um, did I say tasty? Ooh, those brownies in the staff room DID taste unusually good. Let me just bite this corner off...yeecchh! I hate envelope gum!
"Dear Dr. Delighted, I am 47, and feeling sad and hopeless. Ten years ago up in Canada, my grandmother got run over by a reindeer. I miss her so much, I wish she were here with me now. It was such a tragedy. Doctor, what can I do? Sadly, Ned"
Huh, that sounded like it should come from a Bruce! So, Bruce, er-Nad, I am going to give you some really (belch) sage advice: GET LAID! I mean, seriously, guy, you're pushing 50 and you still miss grandma? I'm not going to go all Freudian on you, Nad, that's for a shrink that has a real degree. Nad Needs Notorious Nookie Now! I think I'll make you a bumper sticker with that exact phrase, the ladies will just be crawling over you, I'm sure. As for that reindeer bit, well, (belch) at least you didn't say it was an Al-Qaida job. Merry Christmas, Nad!
Damn, all I am hearing is some doom and gloom! I refuse to read another letter on the air until I see happiness! Let's see...sex change, Satan shall prevail, a summons for me to appear in court, which sort of is happy since it's about my divorce but it is not a letter...now HERE's something!
"Dear Dr. Delighted, Why is TV such a piece of crap? I subscribe to cable and see nothing but endless reruns of shit and infomercials. Can we destroy DirecTV together? Yours, Mel"
Mel, you and I are in the same boat, brother! I agree, the entire cable world should go up in a wall of flames. The best way to enjoy TV is to purchase only the things you do like. Sure, you might see some good classics on cable here and there, but they cut out openings and closings. Worry not, though, I have a plan to make the cable companies implode upon themselves, I just need a few billion. I'm talking major telethon here. In the meantime, here's that request I am assuming you're making in this letter.
(plays "57 Channels and Nothing On" by Bruce Springsteen)
Mmm, those brownies make that slightly undercooked turkey taste absolutely delish! All right, let's find a real winner here. Let's see...abducted by aliens....a few X-rated offers....lots of unwarranted name-calling...ah here we go.
"Dear Dr. Delighted, I am a mother of 2 teenagers, both boys that I am aware of. I have given them everything. Electronics, musical instruments, sporting equipment, you just name it. I want them to know they're loved. I even took them out of public school and let them do school online right from home. No matter what I do, I can't seem to earn any respect from them. Signed, Desperate"
Well...let's start with your name. I think you should get it legally changed. As for your kids, not much you can do anymore. Because, quite frankly, you killed them already. They ask and ask and you give and give. No respect to be found there, and certainly no love beyond empty hugs and kisses and "I love you Mommy" overtures. I imagine they don't do chores, either. I probably wouldn't hire those twits to mop my DJ booth's liquor stains from the floor. I suppose if you have a basement you could have the kids live down there for eternity since they're ruined for the real world. Maybe the IRS will let you claim them as dependents forever. Whatever you do, please do NOT let them be fruitful and multiply. I would consider that favor community service.
(plays "We Wish You Weren't Living With Us" by Bob Rivers)
All right, folks, that is all the time we have for this special holiday edition. We'll be back to my usual raw advice tomorrow. Stay off the roads if you're drunk, enjoy family time, get laid if at all possible. And remember, if you have a problem, I am delighted to help you but not enable you. Good night!
Good...evening. Once again, your favorite radio shrink Dr. Delighted is on the air. I wish I felt more delighted, but I got a memo today from the boss. It says that as we are in the Christmas season, well, HOLIDAY season according to the memo, I need to devote one night to reading letters and honoring requests. Well, since I hit the Discount Liquor store on the way to work and stocked up, I figured tonight's the night!
So, let's dig into this unusually large shopping bag of letters. Damn, I thought it'd be a gallon Zip Lock at most! Quite frankly, I thought I had a small core audience of people who's radio tuners were stuck on AM. What will be will be, I suppose. Let's see, let's try this one that looks like a card.
"Dear Dokter Delitd,
I rely luv your sho. Can yu help me get my daddi bak? He bekam a girl last yer. Luv, Vanessa"
Vanessa, before I begin, I must note your interesting spelling and how I can read it so easily. I will assume you are in third grade or below, so the good doctor and his friend Dr. Bacardi will take it easy on you.Your daddy decided to become a woman, and that tells of a lot of problems that made him want to do that. I can't change him back, but I can help you. The new woman at home is still your daddy at heart, so love him, er her. And believe it or not, Vanessa, being a guy in this hostile world is tough unless you're rich. Maybe being a woman and having that kind of support is what he needed. Merry Christmas to you, Vanessa, and look out for a gift card for you in your mailbox soon.
Whew, these kids have it tough, don't they? Endless electronics, conveniences, and so on, yet their parents can't quite get a grip on being a parent. Poor Vanessa and kids like her have to grow up too damn fast to deal with these life changes. Time for a whiskey sour and we'll be right back.
(plays "Chipmunks Roasting on an Open Fire" by Bob Rivers)
Aaaand, that last tune was requested by someone. Who, I don't know, but it was a request and dammit I honored it! All right, let's see. It's either 10pm or Mickey's gone disco! Time for another letter...oooh, this one looks big and tasty! Um, did I say tasty? Ooh, those brownies in the staff room DID taste unusually good. Let me just bite this corner off...yeecchh! I hate envelope gum!
"Dear Dr. Delighted, I am 47, and feeling sad and hopeless. Ten years ago up in Canada, my grandmother got run over by a reindeer. I miss her so much, I wish she were here with me now. It was such a tragedy. Doctor, what can I do? Sadly, Ned"
Huh, that sounded like it should come from a Bruce! So, Bruce, er-Nad, I am going to give you some really (belch) sage advice: GET LAID! I mean, seriously, guy, you're pushing 50 and you still miss grandma? I'm not going to go all Freudian on you, Nad, that's for a shrink that has a real degree. Nad Needs Notorious Nookie Now! I think I'll make you a bumper sticker with that exact phrase, the ladies will just be crawling over you, I'm sure. As for that reindeer bit, well, (belch) at least you didn't say it was an Al-Qaida job. Merry Christmas, Nad!
Damn, all I am hearing is some doom and gloom! I refuse to read another letter on the air until I see happiness! Let's see...sex change, Satan shall prevail, a summons for me to appear in court, which sort of is happy since it's about my divorce but it is not a letter...now HERE's something!
"Dear Dr. Delighted, Why is TV such a piece of crap? I subscribe to cable and see nothing but endless reruns of shit and infomercials. Can we destroy DirecTV together? Yours, Mel"
Mel, you and I are in the same boat, brother! I agree, the entire cable world should go up in a wall of flames. The best way to enjoy TV is to purchase only the things you do like. Sure, you might see some good classics on cable here and there, but they cut out openings and closings. Worry not, though, I have a plan to make the cable companies implode upon themselves, I just need a few billion. I'm talking major telethon here. In the meantime, here's that request I am assuming you're making in this letter.
(plays "57 Channels and Nothing On" by Bruce Springsteen)
Mmm, those brownies make that slightly undercooked turkey taste absolutely delish! All right, let's find a real winner here. Let's see...abducted by aliens....a few X-rated offers....lots of unwarranted name-calling...ah here we go.
"Dear Dr. Delighted, I am a mother of 2 teenagers, both boys that I am aware of. I have given them everything. Electronics, musical instruments, sporting equipment, you just name it. I want them to know they're loved. I even took them out of public school and let them do school online right from home. No matter what I do, I can't seem to earn any respect from them. Signed, Desperate"
Well...let's start with your name. I think you should get it legally changed. As for your kids, not much you can do anymore. Because, quite frankly, you killed them already. They ask and ask and you give and give. No respect to be found there, and certainly no love beyond empty hugs and kisses and "I love you Mommy" overtures. I imagine they don't do chores, either. I probably wouldn't hire those twits to mop my DJ booth's liquor stains from the floor. I suppose if you have a basement you could have the kids live down there for eternity since they're ruined for the real world. Maybe the IRS will let you claim them as dependents forever. Whatever you do, please do NOT let them be fruitful and multiply. I would consider that favor community service.
(plays "We Wish You Weren't Living With Us" by Bob Rivers)
All right, folks, that is all the time we have for this special holiday edition. We'll be back to my usual raw advice tomorrow. Stay off the roads if you're drunk, enjoy family time, get laid if at all possible. And remember, if you have a problem, I am delighted to help you but not enable you. Good night!
Thursday, December 13, 2018
Delighted Part 2
(station playing Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer)
Hello, and welcome back to the Dr Delighted Show, where we love to listen to your problems and we couldn't be any more delighted if we were on a nude Brazilian beach. And I see we have a caller with some problem or other. Hello! This is Dr. Delighted, damn delighted to speak with you.
"How dare you!"
Sorry, my mom taught be to be gregarious to guests.
"I mean, how dare you play that song!"
What song?
"Rudolph!"
Actually I didn't play it, I was on the can emptying some early Christmas cheer. What precisely is your all-beef patty?
"That is an offensive song!"
Obviously. That's probably why it's been on the air for 70 years.
"I don't care, it offends me!"
I'll bite, but I'll do Listerine later. Why is it offensive?
"The poor reindeer is bullied. It's a song about a bullied reindeer! What a bad example for our children!"
Yeahhh. Well, have you heard the whole song?
"Well, of course."
Good, and what happens to Rudolph at the end?
"He leads Santa's sleigh."
Sounds like a success story to me.
"But he was BULLIED at the beginning!"
So let me get this straight. If Rudolph were just a normal reindeer without the red nose and got chosen to lead the team, you think it would have been a success?
"No, the red nose was what made him special. But they didn't have to BULLY him."
Hahahahahaha, you jellyfish.
"Excuse me?"
I just laughed and called you a name. And stay tuned for this song, it's quite a fun game.
(plays "The Lonesome Loser")
This portion of the Dr. Delighted Show is sponsored by Prozac and Captain Morgan. And let's see our callers on hold. 5 lesbian breakups, 6 wives of soldiers abroad, 3 who want to hear something by a singer I refuse to play. Damn, forgot the mike was on. To all of you...get over it and Merry Christmas. Remember, if you want maple sap, call Delilah. OK, we have something new. Let er rip, brand new caller!
"Dr. Delighted?"
Delighted as always. What is your name?
"Karen. Dr. Delighted, are you happy?"
Karen, did you actually call here to ask about me?
(shy) "Yes."
Listeners, this is a rare thing for a super broadcaster such as myself. I spend so much time listening to other people's crap...er, problems that nobody ever thinks of me. Well, Karen, I am delighted to say I am a very happy person.
"Oh."
You sound disappointed.
"Well, if you weren't happy, I wanted to recommend Lucifer's Yoga Studio. They really know how to make you smile. All you do is say a prayer for Satan and-"
And what a great suggestion for the denizens of East Rutherford! Remember, East Rutherford, LUCIFER'S YOGA STUDIO. I generally don't do plugs, but this one makes sense.
(plays "Highway to Hell")
And now for tonight's weather report. Baby, it's COLD outside! And...damn, here we go again! Who is this little fu----dge nugget? Barney from somewhere west of the San Andreas Fault. May I lay a guess as to why you jumped on?
"Yeah, go ahead."
You object to even the song title being mentioned?
"What? Ah hell no, I'm a traditionalist. That being said, I do have a gripe."
With whom?
"My boss."
Ooh, something different. Rock the Casbah, Humbug!
"Huh?"
Tell your story before it's ad time!
"Well, it's kind of odd. I mean, I deal with her every day, she's very demanding. Yet, sometimes I see her when she's not looking and...I..."
Want to destroy her, right?
"Not exactly."
Bury her in the desert?
"Er, no."
Rip her a new one without losing your job?
"Well...yes and no...you see-"
Oh, I do see now. Barney, I think I'm going to give you an early Christmas gift of a VIP membership to Pornhub.
"Wait-why?"
Because you need to polish the rocks before your rocks make you do something stupid at work. We don't need another unemployed statistic. And now for a song I believe suits the mood.
(plays "Hots for Teacher")
Ad for Little Darlings.
And we're back. Time for our last loser- er, lost soul. Aha! Speaking of Little Darlings, we have "Amber". Maybe I didn't get ENOUGH holiday cheer. Good evening, Amber!
"Hi you jerk!"
Did I not leave you a $20 last week?
"I'm NOT A STRIPPER!"
M-hmmm. So what's your beef-a-roni?
"You told my boyfriend to leave me!"
Ridiculous, I dispense no such direct advice on here.
"Oh he found a way to interpret your damn advice!"
(Bill Dozier impression) Will Dr. Delighted find a way out of this? Can he weasel out yet another jam? Or will he lose all credibility?
"What is your problem? What are you doing?"
Oh, sounded like a cliffhanger moment. Look, I cannot control what people do with my indirect ramblings. It's what keeps me out of court. But for argument sake, what was this guy's name?
"Stu."
Stu Pididdiot? Stu Pefied? Stu Debaker? Stu Por?
"Stu Schultz."
Oh yes! I surmised you were getting extra stew somewhere else.
"Yeah!"
Well?
"Well what?"
Were you?
"That's not the point, the point is-"
Now, if you'd said no, I would have rethought my position. Now I feel justified. You got it somewhere else, but you want to keep your security blanket. I get that.
"If you get that, why did you interfere?"
Who called me first? Him or you?
"Umm, him."
So he laid out his problem, I interpreted, and he acted on it. Now, if you'd chimed in on that call and denied it, we might have had more than 7 listeners that night hearing the debate. But you're blaming me for steering him toward the truth.
"Yeahhh.....maybe I need to kick myself. That or shoot you."
Both are options. You armed?
"Unfortunately, no."
Then Merry Christmas, learn to be faithful, and as you do, here's a tune for you.
(plays "Janie's Got a Gun")
And that wraps up another episode of Dr. Delighted. I am always delighted to hear your problems and even more delighted to steer you on a new path, one you might need to pay a toll for. Good night, it is time for more holiday cheer...and I'll let you interpret that.
Hello, and welcome back to the Dr Delighted Show, where we love to listen to your problems and we couldn't be any more delighted if we were on a nude Brazilian beach. And I see we have a caller with some problem or other. Hello! This is Dr. Delighted, damn delighted to speak with you.
"How dare you!"
Sorry, my mom taught be to be gregarious to guests.
"I mean, how dare you play that song!"
What song?
"Rudolph!"
Actually I didn't play it, I was on the can emptying some early Christmas cheer. What precisely is your all-beef patty?
"That is an offensive song!"
Obviously. That's probably why it's been on the air for 70 years.
"I don't care, it offends me!"
I'll bite, but I'll do Listerine later. Why is it offensive?
"The poor reindeer is bullied. It's a song about a bullied reindeer! What a bad example for our children!"
Yeahhh. Well, have you heard the whole song?
"Well, of course."
Good, and what happens to Rudolph at the end?
"He leads Santa's sleigh."
Sounds like a success story to me.
"But he was BULLIED at the beginning!"
So let me get this straight. If Rudolph were just a normal reindeer without the red nose and got chosen to lead the team, you think it would have been a success?
"No, the red nose was what made him special. But they didn't have to BULLY him."
Hahahahahaha, you jellyfish.
"Excuse me?"
I just laughed and called you a name. And stay tuned for this song, it's quite a fun game.
(plays "The Lonesome Loser")
This portion of the Dr. Delighted Show is sponsored by Prozac and Captain Morgan. And let's see our callers on hold. 5 lesbian breakups, 6 wives of soldiers abroad, 3 who want to hear something by a singer I refuse to play. Damn, forgot the mike was on. To all of you...get over it and Merry Christmas. Remember, if you want maple sap, call Delilah. OK, we have something new. Let er rip, brand new caller!
"Dr. Delighted?"
Delighted as always. What is your name?
"Karen. Dr. Delighted, are you happy?"
Karen, did you actually call here to ask about me?
(shy) "Yes."
Listeners, this is a rare thing for a super broadcaster such as myself. I spend so much time listening to other people's crap...er, problems that nobody ever thinks of me. Well, Karen, I am delighted to say I am a very happy person.
"Oh."
You sound disappointed.
"Well, if you weren't happy, I wanted to recommend Lucifer's Yoga Studio. They really know how to make you smile. All you do is say a prayer for Satan and-"
And what a great suggestion for the denizens of East Rutherford! Remember, East Rutherford, LUCIFER'S YOGA STUDIO. I generally don't do plugs, but this one makes sense.
(plays "Highway to Hell")
And now for tonight's weather report. Baby, it's COLD outside! And...damn, here we go again! Who is this little fu----dge nugget? Barney from somewhere west of the San Andreas Fault. May I lay a guess as to why you jumped on?
"Yeah, go ahead."
You object to even the song title being mentioned?
"What? Ah hell no, I'm a traditionalist. That being said, I do have a gripe."
With whom?
"My boss."
Ooh, something different. Rock the Casbah, Humbug!
"Huh?"
Tell your story before it's ad time!
"Well, it's kind of odd. I mean, I deal with her every day, she's very demanding. Yet, sometimes I see her when she's not looking and...I..."
Want to destroy her, right?
"Not exactly."
Bury her in the desert?
"Er, no."
Rip her a new one without losing your job?
"Well...yes and no...you see-"
Oh, I do see now. Barney, I think I'm going to give you an early Christmas gift of a VIP membership to Pornhub.
"Wait-why?"
Because you need to polish the rocks before your rocks make you do something stupid at work. We don't need another unemployed statistic. And now for a song I believe suits the mood.
(plays "Hots for Teacher")
Ad for Little Darlings.
And we're back. Time for our last loser- er, lost soul. Aha! Speaking of Little Darlings, we have "Amber". Maybe I didn't get ENOUGH holiday cheer. Good evening, Amber!
"Hi you jerk!"
Did I not leave you a $20 last week?
"I'm NOT A STRIPPER!"
M-hmmm. So what's your beef-a-roni?
"You told my boyfriend to leave me!"
Ridiculous, I dispense no such direct advice on here.
"Oh he found a way to interpret your damn advice!"
(Bill Dozier impression) Will Dr. Delighted find a way out of this? Can he weasel out yet another jam? Or will he lose all credibility?
"What is your problem? What are you doing?"
Oh, sounded like a cliffhanger moment. Look, I cannot control what people do with my indirect ramblings. It's what keeps me out of court. But for argument sake, what was this guy's name?
"Stu."
Stu Pididdiot? Stu Pefied? Stu Debaker? Stu Por?
"Stu Schultz."
Oh yes! I surmised you were getting extra stew somewhere else.
"Yeah!"
Well?
"Well what?"
Were you?
"That's not the point, the point is-"
Now, if you'd said no, I would have rethought my position. Now I feel justified. You got it somewhere else, but you want to keep your security blanket. I get that.
"If you get that, why did you interfere?"
Who called me first? Him or you?
"Umm, him."
So he laid out his problem, I interpreted, and he acted on it. Now, if you'd chimed in on that call and denied it, we might have had more than 7 listeners that night hearing the debate. But you're blaming me for steering him toward the truth.
"Yeahhh.....maybe I need to kick myself. That or shoot you."
Both are options. You armed?
"Unfortunately, no."
Then Merry Christmas, learn to be faithful, and as you do, here's a tune for you.
(plays "Janie's Got a Gun")
And that wraps up another episode of Dr. Delighted. I am always delighted to hear your problems and even more delighted to steer you on a new path, one you might need to pay a toll for. Good night, it is time for more holiday cheer...and I'll let you interpret that.
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